it's funny, having just finished watching a huge amount of television, the wire (all 5 seasons in a week)I feel more liberated than i did upon finishing my honours.

this is partly because it correlates with having come to peace with the fact that i am in grief for newcastle, i wasn't fully ready to move. now that i am outside the terror and frustration of my honours i can see that it was the honours and the cyclical thinking i was running from.

i wouldn't change the decision for the world, but that's exactly what i did, changed the entirety of my physical world.

i now value everything i have left behind with a keen sense of longing, and when i am exquisite, a crushing sense of loss. as reality suffuses with memory and turns to nostalgia, (that fairy floss of memory that allows mothers to forget the pain of childbirth and only remember holding their new born baby*) i know i am glossing over the aspects of newcastle and my life there that drove me to move.

and this alclarity also gestures towards the fact that i haven't actually moved to melbourne yet, i've moved to a remote living room with an internet connection. i'm not in a place yet, swinging liminal between here and not here, i know my velocity but not my trajectory, in that great qualm of physics that us 'arts' majors so love to butcher.

oh lord, now i'm set towards trajectory i'm feeling the fire.

i have rediscovered how much more powerful life is when you feel

* In Andrew's dictionary the definition of nostalgia includes the note:
a living, tactile romance lost on the majority of men.